


Mr. Brightside

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Smut, cliche ending SORRY, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:32:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry decides to have a small get together at his house one evening.  The alcohol is flowing, and fueling a few love triangles along the way.  Loosely based on the lyrics of the Killers' "Mr. Brightside."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Brightside

It was a dark and chilly evening in London and Harry Styles was sitting at his kitchen table, fiddling with an apple, rolling it back and forth on the wooden top. He liked the sound it made as the uneven surface of the fruit rolled across the polished wood. A raised voice suddenly cut into his thoughts. "Harry, did you hear what I just said?" He looked up at the tall blonde girl narrowing her black-rimmed eyes in his direction and shook his head.  
  
"Sorry, babe, I was just distracted," he sighed. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the cutting board on the counter where she'd been chopping up some celery for the hors d’oeuvre she was making.  
  
"You should probably go change before people start getting here," she commented, and it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes, but he obeyed and got up from the table defeatedly, pushing in his chair loudly to not-so-subtly show that he was annoyed. She had a knack for getting under his skin like no one else.  
  
Harry had been dating Taylor for a little over four months now, and whenever the boys got a break on the Take Me Home tour, she was there, trying to play house, ironing his shirts, fixing his collars, moving his things to places that "made more sense," inviting his mom to lunch when he wasn't home, and just generally slipping into any opening she saw in the little routines of his life.  
  
He'd liked it at first. It was no secret that his self-confidence was as up and down as the stock market. It was easy for Harry to slip into long nights of self-doubt, pouring over tweets that called him pathetic, ugly, stupid, womanizing...and sit in the dark and reread them all until he tore himself apart. Having someone like Taylor around had made it better in the beginning. She would come into the room and gently push the screen of his laptop closed, say quietly, "Don't do that to yourself, Harry," lead him out of the room by the hand and to the living room where she had popcorn and a movie waiting, because she understood. Because she had to put up with the same things that he did.  
  
But it was all becoming too much now. She was dominating his life, pulling him away from anything that didn't involve her or adding herself to it. And when they kissed....it was nice, sure, but no electricity. No passion. No spark. He knew what was missing. He'd known since he let it go, but there was no going back so he pushed his feelings down until he'd almost convinced himself that they weren't there. He put on a mask for the cameras, he held her hand walking out of restaurants and climbing into taxis, and he floated along each night smiling for pictures and paparazzi. He was empty inside, but he worked so hard to be happy on the outside that he had almost convinced himself that he was.  
  
He walked heavily into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, brushed his teeth and splashed some cold water on his face. He ran a large hand through his dark curls and stared at himself in the mirror. The doorbell rang just then, and Taylor yelled from the kitchen. "Harry, your friends are here! Let them in while I finish making this!"  
  
He groaned to himself and muttered, "'kay, Mum," sarcastically before walking down the hall to the front door. He put his hand on the knob, sighed and plastered on a shiny smile. He opened the door and Niall practically shoved him aside to get into the warm front hallway. Snow had begun to fall and Harry stared at the flakes falling through the dark for a minute before turning around to see his friend stomping his boots on the mat next to the coat tree. He smiled and shook his head.  
  
"It's freezin' out there, mate!" Niall said, cheeks bright and blotchy and lips red, as he unwrapped the scarf he'd had around neck. "Where's the alcohol?! Let's get all warmed up!" He grinned at Harry who laughed and lead him to the kitchen. He opened up the refrigerator and rummaged around, glass clanking together, as he got out a few of the bottles he'd bought for the occasion.  
  
"Hi, Niall!" Taylor smiled as Niall made himself at home, unpeeling a banana from the fruit bowl on the table and resting his feet on the chair that he wasn't sitting in.  
  
"Hello, Taylor," he replied with a mouthful of banana. "What're you makin?"  
  
She scowled at his manners, then smiled in spite of herself. "Just some vegetable dip to go with these pita chips I got at the store today."  
  
"Sounds healthy," Niall replied as he got up from the chair and made his way to the refrigerator. He shoved his way in next to Harry and grabbed a white paper box full of leftovers from a Chinese restaurant. “You mind, man?” he nodded to Harry as he was already opening the box to inspect its contents.  
  
Harry laughed. “Of course not, Niall.” He held up the two bottles of expensive liquor to his friend, grinning from ear to ear. “And here’s the liquid fire you asked for, sir.”  
  
“Why thank you, buddy,” Niall replied, grabbing the whiskey from Harry’s left hand and making his way to the cupboard where he knew the glasses were kept.  
  
“Don’t you boys want to wait until you get some food in your stomachs?” Taylor commented, raising her eyebrows at Niall, who already had a glass full of clinking ice and was opening the whiskey bottle. He and Harry looked at each other and snorted.  
  
“No!” they chimed in unison, receiving another eye roll from the self-appointed hostess.  
  
“Well maybe when Grimmy and the others get here, I’ll have some more sophisticated company,” she said, lips pursed as she turned back to her appetizer. Niall made a wanking motion with his hand in her direction and stuck his tongue out. Harry uncomfortably watched and motioned for Niall to follow him.  
  
“We’ll be in the living room, alright babe?” he called over his shoulder as they left the kitchen.  
  
As soon as they made it to the cozy, dimly lit living room, Niall plopped down on the couch and took a huge swig of his drink. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but how the fuck do you handle her, man?” he said incredulously, blue eyes wide.  
  
Harry took a seat next to him and scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, then messed his curls up with his large hand, only to smooth them back out. Nervous habit, he guessed. “We’re good…we’re…ehm she’s good for me,” he attempted. He wasn’t fooling Niall. He didn’t even smile when he said it. Everything about it was forced and they all knew that Harry couldn’t act. He couldn’t lie. It was his curse.  
  
“Don’t lie to me, Harry,” Niall said and propped his feet up on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankles. “What’s going on with ya?”  
  
Harry looked at him and met his gaze, trying to decide how to explain it to his best friend. Hell, he could barely explain it to himself. There was so much…so much that had happened and so much that he felt. But the feelings were so distant to him now that he didn’t really know how to get any of them to come out of his mouth. They had hurt so much that he had just shoved them away and now he wasn’t even sure if they were real.  
  
Basically, he had simplified it into bullet points in his head. #1: He used to be in love with someone. #2 That someone loved him too. #3 They were told it would ruin their careers. They were told they should hide it, for the best interest of the band. #4 It was too hard and it hurt. #5 That person said it was easier to love someone else. #6 That person didn’t kiss him anymore. #7 Maybe he could love Taylor. Maybe it would be easier too.  
  
“Harry?” Niall said, snapping him from his thoughts. The room came back into focus and Niall’s eyes were a little worried, still staring at him.  
  
Harry shook his head a little, as if to wake himself up. “Sorry, I…do you know how he is? I mean, he’s coming tonight. So he’s fine, but do you know…do you know how he is?”  
  
Niall pulled his mouth into a straight line and bit his lower lip. He looked like he felt sorry and maybe a little nervous for some reason. Harry didn’t have to explain anything to him because he knew. But he also knew something that Harry didn’t. “I was gonna get to this sooner or later, but I didn’t know how to bring it up,” he began. Harry instantly looked like he was going to be sick. His face paled and Niall put a comforting hand on his leg. “It’s El. She broke up with him last night, Harry.” Harry swore his vision blacked out for a second and he had a small heart attack. He leaned forward on the couch and then back again, readjusting himself nervously. “You alright, man?” Niall asked.  
  
Harry didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t know if this meant anything or nothing at all. He was just worried about Louis. He pictured his face. Knew what it looked like when he was in pain. Hoped that it didn’t look like that right now. “Why?” was all that he could get out.  
  
“I dunno the details actually,” Niall explained. “I only talked to him for a minute. He told me it happened and that it was a slap in the face. He….ah Harry I don’t know if I should tell you this part, mate.” Niall looked nervous again.  
  
Harry glared at him. “You HAVE to tell me Niall,” he said seriously.  
  
“He was crying on the phone. He seemed pretty broken up about it. I think…think she cheated on him.” Niall took another big swig of his drink and shook his head. “Fucking cunts, man.”  
  
Harry rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, Niall. He can’t handle that,” Harry worried, knowing how Louis was. Harry was barely handling anything himself.  
  
“Yeah, I know. But Harry, you have to let him tell you on his own. You guys are-you’re you, you know? He can’t know I told ya.”  
  
“Told him what?” a sharp voice asked. Taylor had walked into the room carrying a tray of small bread slices and a bowl of the dip she’d made. She set it down on the table and sat next to Harry, forcing Niall to scoot over a bit and attaching her side to Harry’s, making sure their arms and thighs were touching.  
  
“Told him about Nick’s problem. He can’t get it up lately, you know?” Niall answered, raising one eyebrow smartly.  
  
“Ew!” Taylor stuck her tongue out. “I obviously came in at the wrong time.”  
  
Niall laughed and grabbed a few of the bread slices, shoving them in his mouth.  
  
Almost as if on cue, the doorbell rang for the second time that night. Harry started to get up, but he heard the door already swinging open on its own. Taylor gave him a confused look but he just knowingly smiled, and then a familiar voice was echoing through the hallway. “Harry Styles, where the hell are you? Come give your old friend Nick a kiss!” It was just like Nick to announce his arrival with the doorbell and then let himself in anyway, and it made Harry happy that at least SOMETHING was still normal in his world.  
  
“We’re in here!” Harry called to his friend. Seconds later, Nick was walking through the door carrying a bottle of red wine in one hand and unraveling his scarf with the other. He smiled at everyone and walked straight to Harry, pulling him off the couch and into a full-on bear hug. It had been almost two months since they’d last seen each other, and he really did miss his curly-haired friend.  
  
“How are you, love?” he beamed, and kissed Harry on the cheek. Harry gave him the normal tour-is-tiring-but-I’m-good answer, while Nick leaned down and gave Taylor a peck on each cheek, then hugged Niall and told him to chew with his mouth closed. He perched on the arm of the couch and poured himself a glass of wine. “Is anyone else coming tonight?”  
  
Taylor touched his arm and leaned towards him when she talked, answering his question with, “a friend of mine, she’s here from Paris. Her name is Marlowe.” Nick began to respond, but Niall interrupted.  
  
“Is she hot?” he grinned and winked at Harry.  
  
Third eye roll of the night from Taylor. “Don’t bother her Niall. She has a boyfriend. But yes, she’s very pretty.”  
  
Harry could just sense the tension and he prickled because he knew Nick did too when he started beaming cheekily at him. So he decided to change the subject. “I think Louis’ coming too. He should be here any minute now, really.” Nick’s smile turned to a Look and then an eyebrow raise. Taylor was oblivious.  
  
“How is old Lou, Harry?” Nick asked, with a hint of mischief in his voice.  
  
“Not too good I think,” Harry replied. He glanced at Niall, who nodded. “Eleanor broke up with him last night, but I haven’t talked to him yet. Don’t say anything, yeah?”  
  
Taylor put her hand over her heart and her bright red lips turned into a pout. “Oh the poor thing. He must be crushed. I hope we can all cheer him up a little bit.”  
  
“Yes, Taylor. I’m sure you’ll be a big help with that,” Nick smiled a little too big and patted her on the head. Harry glared at him behind her back and he stuck his tongue out in return. He was such a child sometimes.  
  
Taylor’s friend Marlowe arrived soon after that, all dark waves and red cheeks, short and petite with a quiet voice and a sweet smile. Taylor had said she had a boyfriend, but Niall immediately charmed her. He thought her shyness was cute and he told her jokes and got her a drink and made room for her on the big armchair next to him. Taylor gave him dirty looks for it, but he chose to ignore her and apparently Marlowe did too, giggling at everything he said and blushing when he brushed a loose wave from her cheek. 

They all talked and laughed and got comfortable with each other, but no one noticed the absence of the last guest more than Harry and when the doorbell rang for the fourth time that night, he all but jumped out of his seat to answer it. As he walked down the hallway towards the front door, he clenched and unclenched his fists, clutching the material of his black jeans and biting his lip. He was nervous. He hadn’t seen Louis since the airport. They didn’t hang out much after bullet point #5 and they pretty much stopped hanging out at all after bullet #7. Just at work events. Or when they passed each other on the bus. And it ached.  
  
Harry wiped his sweaty palm on his pants and reached for the doorknob, swallowing hard and turning it slowly. When he opened it, he recognized the expression on Louis’ face. His eyes were sunken in and he looked older than normal, all of the light gone from his blue irises. They looked grey when they were like this. His mouth was drawn in a tight line across his face and Harry knew that it was an attempt at a smile, albeit a pathetic one.  
  
“Hey, Lou,” he greeted him and guided him in with a large hand on the older boy’s shoulder. His first instinct was to pull him into a hug and to whisper against his temple that everything would be okay, that he wouldn’t be hurting forever, that he wasn’t alone. But things weren’t Harry and Louis anymore. They were singular. They were band mates. They were tough. They didn’t do things like that. Or at least, Harry didn’t think he was supposed to. He was scared of Louis’ reaction.  
  
“Hello, Harold,” Louis said in his airy little rasp, and it stung Harry.  
  
“Everyone’s in the living room,” Harry said awkwardly and motioned for Louis to follow him down the hall. They walked into the little room, Harry leading the way. Louis gave the same pathetic, tight-lipped smile to everyone but Niall, who stood up to hug him, clapping him on the back and shaking his shoulder, whispering something quietly in his ear that no one else was meant to hear. Louis mouthed a thank you and smiled sadly. “Want a drink?” Harry asked him from the other side of the room.  
  
Louis nodded and made his way to where Harry was. He asked for a vodka cranberry and had it in his hands in a second, swishing the ice around noisily before he lifted to his lips and took a sip. His cheeks were drawn tight and pale and he looked tired. Even Nick felt too bad for him to make a crack at him. And THAT was rare.  
  
“What’s everyone staring at?” Louis asked after a minute of awkward silence and uncomfortable smiles from Taylor and Marlowe.  
  
Taylor leaned across the table and patted Louis on the thigh. He shrank away a little, but she wasn’t deterred. “We just want you to have a fun time tonight, Lou.” She gave him a little wink and Harry could’ve sworn Niall gagged under his breath.  
  
“Shit Niall, you’ve told them, haven’t you?” Louis groaned and smacked his hand to his forehead. “I didn’t want this hanging over the party. I’m fine, alright?”  
  
“Of course you are, Louis,” Taylor beamed at him, “but no one would blame you if you weren’t.”  
  
Louis rolled his eyes so that she couldn’t see and then looked over at Harry wistfully. “Really, I’m fine. Let’s play a game or something?” He looked around at everyone for approval.  
  
Nick nodded and sipped his wine daintily. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. As long as the game is interesting.”  
  
“How ‘bout Never-Have-I-Ever?” Niall suggested, his arm hanging loosely around Marlowe’s waist and a drink in his other hand. “If you’ve done what the person that’s it says they’ve never done, you have to drink!” He took another long swig of his drink as if he was demonstrating.  
  
“I like that idea,” Marlowe agreed and smiled at Niall. Louis and Nick both wanted to play too and Harry looked at Taylor for her answer. She nodded because she wanted to go along with Marlowe, and Harry refilled everyone’s drinks before they started.  
  
“Since you suggested it, Niall, you should go first,” Harry said and Niall smiled evilly, happy to start the mischief. “Alright. Hmmmm…” he took another sip of his drink.  
  
“Niall! You don’t drink when you’re it!” Marlowe giggled.  
  
Niall blushed and shook his head. “’M sorry, habit. Okay, never have I ever…had sex in an elevator.” He looked around the room to see who had to take a drink. Louis smiled a little to himself and raised his glass to his lips. Harry also took a drink, and Nick did too.  
  
“Do I have to take one for every time I’ve done it?” Nick laughed. Niall cracked up and his face started turning red, but his laughter turned into a surprised grin when a blushing Marlowe took a small sip of her drink right next to him.  
  
“WOOOOO!” Niall cheered and everyone else laughed as Marlowe turned an even darker shade of red and smiled shyly.  
  
“Can I be next, then?” Nick asked.  
  
“Sure, go ahead Nick,” Niall nodded.  
  
Nick had a big shit-eating grin on his face and said, “Never have I ever put my mouth near a vagina.” Harry giggled and took a sip of his drink. Louis rolled his eyes and took one too. Niall joined them and looked at Marlowe expectantly.  
  
“Not that one, Niall,” she said, attempting a glare but smiling anyway, because really who could resist his mischievous little smirk.  
  
Everyone laughed even more at that and the mood in the room was light. All except in Louis’ little corner, but to be fair, he was trying. “I’ll have a turn,” he offered next. “Never have I ever shaved my legs,” he said, trying to hold back a laugh and looking over at Harry because he knew he’d be taking a drink. He scrunched up his nose and smile as he took a drink, followed by a laughing Taylor and then Marlowe. Nick took a drink too, of course.  
  
“Your turn Harry!” Niall said, still taking extra drinks between turns.  
  
“Alright, alright,” Harry laughed. “Never have I ever dyed my hair.” Nick, Niall, Taylor, and Marlowe all took drinks. Everyone was getting a little tipsy and giggly now, and Harry refilled the drinks. “Marlowe, do you want to go?” he asked as he handed her a new White Russian.  
  
She nodded and looked around at everyone. “Hmmm…” she narrowed her eyes and they landed on Harry. “Never have I ever…kissed Harry Styles.” She then winked at Taylor and Taylor took a sip of her drink and giggled. To her surprise, Niall, Nick, and Louis all took a swig as well. Niall started to laugh again and so did Nick.  
  
Harry blushed and grinned. “He’s just so loveable, in’ he? Look at him turning red,” Nick cooed. Taylor looked a little confused but her smile didn’t disappear.  
  
“Everyone has kissed Harry Styles,” Niall continued to chuckle.  
  
“Okay, okay, redo,” Marlowe announced, trying to put her friend in the spotlight, since she’d been the one to drink the least so far. “Never have I ever…been in LOVE with Harry Styles.”  
  
Taylor’s confused look disappeared and she beamed and drank a bigger sip this time. Nick also drank, and Taylor started laughing. She was too distracted to notice that Harry was staring at Louis. He couldn’t take his eyes away. He knew he wouldn’t drink, but oh how he wanted him too. Louis finally felt Harry’s eyes on him and turned to look. They both looked away the second their eyes met.  
  
Harry felt embarrassed that Louis had even caught him. His stomach flipped awkwardly and he suddenly felt sick. He got up to refill his drink and downed it in less than a minute, so he poured another one. He had his back to everyone, but he kept imagining that Louis was watching him. When he turned around, he half-expected to see those ice blue irises staring back at him, but instead, he saw Louis looking at his phone, flicking the screen with his thumb and looking a little upset. “I say less games, more drinks,” Harry suggested. “Who agrees with me?”  
  
Niall cheered and Nick raised his glass and nodded. Louis gave a little half smile and the girls giggled. So there it was. The silly questions and answers ended and the liquor started flowing. It seemed as if it were a contest between Harry and Louis, silently willing the other to have just one more drink. Niall was still beating them both of course.  
  
He and Marlowe were sharing the chair now, her on his lap and his arm wrapped around her waist. They talked lowly, faces close, and laughed a lot. Nick had slid from the arm of the couch to the seat next to a very tipsy Taylor, and he made conversation with her and Harry. He wasn’t drinking as much as everyone else. He preferred to sit back and laugh at them. And although he’d never admit it, he wanted to stay sober enough to look out for Harry. He was worried about him.  
  
Louis sat in his little corner on the ottoman, scrolling through his phone, reading the texts between he and Eleanor and looking at all the tweets the fans had sent. Most of them felt sorry for him, saying that he and Eleanor were perfect together and that this breakup wouldn’t last and that they loved him. And then there were the few that said things about Harry, and how they could finally come out of the closet, and yay the beard is gone. He didn’t know which ones made him feel worse. None of them understood. He made his next drink stronger, hoping that maybe he could numb himself a little, but it only seemed to make him more upset. 

The night continued like that for a while, until finally Marlowe announced that she was ready to leave, because she had an appointment at an art gallery the next afternoon. Niall looked up at her with the most serious face he could manage in his current state and said, “I would drive you home, darlin’ but…I can’t drive. No way.”  
  
She giggled and poked him on the nose. “I can see that. How about I take you home instead?” She added a little wink at the end and smiled.  
  
Niall wiggled his eyebrows and nodded. “Sounds about perfect to me. Let’s go now!”  
  
Nick laughed and said goodbye and Niall hugged him, Harry, and Taylor and then made his way to Louis. He hugged him a little tighter than the others and said, “Put that away, Louis. Keep your chin up. I love you, man.” Louis smiled weakly and slipped his phone back in his pocket.  
  
After Niall and Marlowe left, Taylor got up to go fix herself something to eat, wobbling as she made her way to the door and snorting when she almost tripped over the rug in the hallway. “Someone’s a little sloppy tonight, boys,” Nick observed. Harry scowled at him, but was too drunk to care enough to say anything about it. “I think we’re all tired. AND GRUMPY,” Nick looked pointedly at Harry. “We should watch a film.”  
  
Harry conceded and flipped off the lights while Nick proceeded to pick something from Harry’s giant DVD collection. Louis watched Nick search through the titles in the glow of the television light until he felt Harry staring at him for the second time that night. He looked back and this time, they didn’t break eye contact. Just stared. “Here’s a good one!” Nick announced suddenly, and stood up to put the disc into Harry’s Playstation. The two boys broke eye contact as the first preview was illuminated on the screen and Nick took his seat back on the couch next to Harry. Louis turned around towards the television and floated off into his own little world again.  
  
Harry’s head was spinning. He was beyond drunk, and emotions were taking over reason as stared at the back of Louis head, willing him to turn around just one more time if he missed him. If you miss me, turn around. If you miss me….but Louis didn’t turn. And Harry’s heart just kept breaking.  
  
Just as the beginning credits were rolling, Taylor came back into the room empty handed. She was still acting like she had when she left, giggling to herself and kind of dancing when she walked. She walked to the back of the couch and leaned over it so that her mouth was right next to Harry’s ear, lips practically brushing the shell of it. She attempted a whisper, but it ended up being louder than that. “Harry, I’m ready for bed. Do you want to come with?”  
  
Nick watched them out of the corner of his eye, saw Taylor put her hands on Harry’s shoulders and drag them down his chest slowly. He looked at Louis to gauge his reaction. He was still facing the screen, but his eyes were closed, like he was concentrating. He looked back to Harry and Taylor. Harry wasn’t fully smiling, but the corners of his mouth were upturned and his eyes looked distant, somewhere far away. Nick thought that he was probably so far gone he didn’t even know his own name at that point, but Taylor kept at it. She slid her hands down the front of his shirt and bit his earlobe. “Come on, Harry. I can…” Nick couldn’t hear the next part because she whispered it, but he could only imagine. She started giggling again and Harry turned his head to kiss her sloppily.  
  
He stopped watching and turned his attention to the television, grabbing the remote and flicking the volume up a little louder. He could still hear their heavy breathing and the little sounds they were making next to him, so he cleared his throat a little obnoxiously. Harry pulled away from Taylor and looked at him, dazed. Suddenly, realization flickered across his face and he stood up. “Come on, babe. Let’s take this somewhere else.” Louis was sitting stone-still, as if he were anchored to the floor. As if he were deaf to anything but the film on the screen. Harry and Taylor stumbled out of the room hand in hand and into the guest bedroom one door down the hall. The door slammed shut and it sounded like one or the other of them was pushed against the wall. There was some rustling around, and then, to Nick’s horror and complete disgust, Taylor started moaning loudly, saying Harry’s name and making a slew of melodramatic sounds.  
  
Louis dropped his head into his palm and rested his elbow on his knee. Nick just watched him. He felt a twinge of sympathy in his gut, but he quickly swore to himself that he wouldn’t admit it. And then the headboard began hitting the wall, the sound muffled, but still prominent. And then the blue eyes were open and Louis was facing him and he was almost crying. He was swallowing the lump in his throat and water pooled over his irises, blurring them and turning the corners red. “Nick…” his voice was hoarse and small. “Nick, do you hear them?”  
  
Nick nodded. He didn’t know what to say. He and Louis weren’t exactly close. They were too much alike. They both loved Harry fiercely, in different ways. They were both cutting and smart. They both were very insecure, but acted like they thought highly of themselves. And they clashed like crazy. But the broken look in Louis’ eyes reminded him of something in himself from a long time ago and he felt terrible for him.  
  
“Why is…he can’t be doing this. He doesn’t even love her. He doesn’t,” Louis went on. It was almost as if he was reassuring himself, but he was whimpering now. His voice was shaking like it was about to break.  
  
Nick looked at him with eyes full of pity. “Lou…” he was trying to be gentle, but he had a bad habit of saying things without thinking first. “It’s Harry. Harry loves everyone. That’s just how he is. He doesn’t mean to, but he hurts people.”  
  
Louis’ glassy eyes turned sharp and he glared at Nick. “You don’t know anything about it. You don’t know how Harry loves. You’re only saying that because you want him, you pathetic fuck.” He had sat up on his knees and was leaning in Nick’s direction, fists balled at his sides.  
  
“Louis, get ahold of yourself. You’re upset. Bad things happened to you today. But you don’t need to take it out on me. Harry is with Taylor now. And you can’t choose him again just because your girlfriend left you.” Nick tried to be calm, but he didn’t like being called pathetic. Particularly by someone he didn’t like very much.  
  
“Fuck you,” Louis said, voice no longer shaking as he stood up, for once towering over Nick.  
  
“Don’t embarrass yourself, Louis,” Nick replied, standing up as well. He had the upper hand again, almost a head taller than Louis. Louis bit his lower lip and his eyes flashed. Nick was sure he was about to punch him, but he refused to flinch. And then something happened that he couldn’t have expected. Louis kissed him instead. He grabbed the sides of his face like he wanted to rip it off. He kissed him hard on the mouth, open lips and tongue skimming Nick’s front teeth. Nick kissed back for a second, falling into it like a trap, his brain ripping in half at the seams and the backs of his eyelids turning a million different colors. And as quick as it had happened, it was over, Nick’s strong large hands on Louis’ shoulders, pushing him back and holding him upright to anchor him at the same time. He stared into Nick’s eyes for a second and then began crying again.  
  
“Nick…please…I’m…I’m sorry I’m just going crazy. I can’t do this.”  
  
Nick just stared back for a minute, watching Louis fall apart in front of him. And then he pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him. He just held him as tight as he could because there was nothing else to do and Louis shook against him. Silent sobs racked his small body as Nick kept whispering into the hair above his ear, “Shhh. Shhhh. It’s okay, it’s okay. I promise it’s going to be okay, Louis.”  
  
Neither one of them noticed that the noise in the other room had stopped. The television was still turned up and Louis’ little muffled sounds were the only other thing that Nick could hear. And suddenly Harry was walking through the door, shirtless and still a little buzzed. The fragile, quiet, secret thing that was happening in the room was ruined, shattered. Nick just wanted to sink into the floor and take Louis with him, just to save him from what was bound to happen now that Harry had seen him crying. But it was too late.  
  
“Lou? What’s going on?.... Nick, why is he crying?” Harry was halfway across the room and Louis pulled away from Nick, wiping his eyes furiously and looking at the ground, trying to turn his face to stone. Nick’s arms hung limply in front of him and his mouth was slightly open, but nothing came out. He felt like he didn’t belong in the room anymore.  
  
“Somebody answer me,” Harry’s voice was rough and deep, a little gravelly.  
  
Nick looked to Louis, but he just turned away a little, angling his body away from the other two and putting one arm across his chest, holding the other with his hand. Nick began to answer, “Harry, maybe you should-“ but Taylor walked into the room, hair in a ponytail and a new coat of red lipstick smeared across her lips.  
  
“What’s happening in here? Who’s crying?” she asked, no hint of tact in her voice. She just wanted answers.  
  
Suddenly, Nick was pissed. Maybe it was the tone of her voice, or the look on her face. But out of nowhere, he felt very protective of his boys. “Taylor, I think these two need to talk. I’ll take you to yours. I haven’t really had much.”  
She glared at him. And Louis began to cry again, silently, but he put his face in one hand and sat back down on the ottoman. “No, Nick. I want to stay here with Harry and I want to know what’s going on,” she answered, and then as an afterthought added, “But thanks.”  
  
Harry had been staring at Louis, particularly his shoulders. They moved up and down with each new wave of tears and he just wanted to touch him. Or do something. “Let him take you, Taylor. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said firmly, voice suddenly alive and sobered up. He didn’t…couldn’t break his eyes away from Louis’ small frame, folded in on itself near the corner of the room.  
  
“Are you kidding me, Harry?” she raised her hands in disbelief.  
  
“No,” he said simply, looking her straight in the eye. “I want you to leave.”  
  
“FINE,” she spat. “But you’re going to regret this. You really are Harry Styles.”  
  
He just shook his head as she blew out the door. Nick nodded at him and followed her, and less than two minutes later, everything was quiet except for Louis. They were alone together for the first time in months. Harry walked slowly to the ottoman and leaned down. He ran his large hand up Louis’ back slowly, then back down. Louis exhaled long and slow, just the smallest touch from Harry putting him a little more at ease. But the anger was there and he couldn’t forget it. Not this time. He shrugged Harry’s hand off his back and stood up, moving to the other side of the room.  
  
“Louis, talk to me,” Harry said desperately. “It’s ME.” He waited.  
  
“Fuck you Styles,” Louis spit, with venom in every note of his voice.  
  
“Louis, you’re acting like a kid,” Harry said out of frustration. His skin was starting to prickle, simply because he did NOT know what to do. He had no idea how to handle any of this.  
  
Louis turned around quickly, furiously, eyes blazing and icy blue. “Oh, don’t even say that to me Harry. You’re the one playing house with some complete lunatic you don’t even care about. You’re like a little boy. Do you let her pick out your clothes for you too?” He had moved closer with every sentence and he was in Harry’s face now, voice getting colder every second.  
  
He was making it easier for Harry to get mad too. They both had so much to say, so much to yell at each other at the top of their lungs but they were both too conscious of the other’s fragility; of the unspeakable balance they had created that hung in the air wherever they went. But it was teetering and neither one of them cared much at this point. “Why do you suddenly care?” Harry asked. “You’ve wanted nothing to do with me these past months and now you’re telling me off? What’s changed? Nothing!” He had started and he couldn’t stop. “Nothing has changed except Eleanor finally dumped you.”  
  
Louis reeled and then shoved him hard, both hands on his chest. “Fuck you Harry! Fuck you!” he yelled and shoved him again. He pounded his fists into Harry’s chest and shoved him again. Harry grabbed his fists.  
  
“Louis, stop! This is ridiculous, stop!” Louis’ arms stopped trying to swing slowly and he just started sobbing. He didn’t even try to hold it back. “Hey! Hey. It’s okay. I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean it,” Harry said as Louis collapsed into him. He held his arms around him and rested his forehead on Louis’ temple. “I’m sorry. Just let me-“  
  
“I just couldn’t listen to it anymore,” Louis said into Harry’s bare shoulder. “It felt like you were her. It felt like I was getting cheated on twice in one week. Because I…I love you, Harry.” His voice cracked and crumbled over the last few words. Harry gripped him tighter.  
  
“But you left me,” he said it like a question. He suddenly sounded really very young and sad. “It’s not fair that you’re mad at me for moving on. You had Eleanor.”  
  
“But that’s different,” Louis said quietly.  
  
Harry pulled away a little, hands still on Louis’ biceps, holding them and studying his face. “Why?”  
  
Louis looked at him with his red eyes like the answer was obvious. “Because I loved her. You don’t love Taylor. You don’t even like her.”  
  
Harry looked down. “I did.”  
  
If Louis weren’t so upset, he might’ve rolled his eyes at that. “Yeah, for about two weeks. That’s how you are. You get all infatuated and then lose interest.”  
  
Harry looked back up. “Not with you,” he said with certainty. “I still love you. And it hurts.”  
  
Louis studied his face. He sometimes forgot what it looked like when it was like this. Open and sad and beautiful and hurt. He sometimes forgot the times when he got to see Harry this way because he tried to forget them. He tried to be so tough. He didn’t want to hurt. He wanted to be the one that could walk away and love someone else. Love everyone else. Love every girl in the world and forget about…forget. But here was this boy, standing in front of him and staring back at him and telling him that he still loves him. He abandoned him, but he still loves him.  
  
He reached up and touched Harry’s cheek. His eyelashes fluttered and water pooled in the corners of his eyes. He took a deep breath and shuttered as Louis’ long fingers moved down his jaw, tracing it and trailing to his neck and collarbones. “I’m sorry Harry. I’m sorry for everything. It was different and I swear she wasn’t you. I didn’t want to hurt. I was so weak and I never stopped thinking about you. I never did.” Harry grabbed his hand and pulled it to his lips, brushing it over the bottom one. “Harry, I love you. I’ve never meant it to anyone but you because it can only mean this with you. I love you.”  
  
Harry began to cry, quiet tears falling gently down his face. His kissed three of Louis’ fingers and then his hand. Louis moved closer to him slowly and cupped his cheek in his warm hand. He rested his forehead on Harry’s the curls tickling his brow bones and getting caught in his eyelashes. “I love you,” he said again into the small space they had formed between their faces. “You have to know that. Do you know that?” he asked gently.  
“I love you too,” Harry said simply, hoarsely. “I love you too, Louis.”  
  
Louis kissed him then, not able to keep space between them any longer. Harry’s lips moved hungrily against his, trying to steal all the love that he’d missed out on. He opened his mouth slightly, letting Louis’ tongue in to skim across his lip and the row of teeth and run along his. He held his hands on the sides of Harry’s face, gentle but firm, winding the curls around his fingers, trying to say something with his lips and his hands that he’d meant to say for months. He never wanted to stop. Harry gripped his shoulders firmly, holding on like they were all he’d needed this whole time. He made a sound, low in his throat, and Louis’ heart jumped and flipped in his chest. They were crashing into each other like magnets because they’d been fighting something that was meant to be since before they’d ever met.  
  
Louis pulled away for a second and ran his thumb along Harry’s cheek, staring into his eyes with an intensity he couldn’t help. “Don’t stop, Louis. I need you to-“ Louis kissed him again, backing him towards the door.  
They bumped into the frame and pulled away again. Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and walked him into the hallway. “I know what you need. I need it too. I’m never leaving again. I can’t. I can’t. I swear,” he said and pushed him into the wall, kissing him again, hard. He grabbed his hand again and continued leading him towards the bedroom.  
  
“You swear?” Harry asked from behind him. He sounded his age, genuinely scared, but hopeful.  
  
Louis turned again and kissed his cheek, then the corner of his lips, where his dimple was. “Yes, Harry, yes,” he said desperately.  
  
Harry let himself breathe. He looked back into his best friend’s eyes and for the first time in months he felt warm. He felt color return to his cheeks and his eyes were shining. He smiled again, a real smile because he believed it. And as he followed Louis to his bed and let himself fall into it, he knew that it was right and it was real and this was it. No more pretending or convincing himself he was happy because this was FINALLY it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry the ending is cliche. I want to rewrite it, really. But I'm having some terrible writer's block and I didn't want to take the cop out and make it pure smut. Maybe I should though? Suggestions will be seriously considered. Thanks for reading!


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